


The Invasion

by WildwingSuz



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-23 00:03:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3748141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildwingSuz/pseuds/WildwingSuz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A/U: the Smoking Man’s fondest wish comes true, but does he gloat too much too soon?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Invasion

**Author's Note:**

> In this story I went with the actual TV timeline, not Mr. Carter’s “interesting” timeline. I also kinda messed around with what they could and couldn’t know at the time this takes place, so don’t have a conniption if you realize that M&S seem to know things that hadn’t taken place yet in the show when I diverge here—artistic license, you know.  
> The idea for this came from all the conjuncture on how William came to exist.
> 
> Spoilers: Pilot, Existence
> 
> Special thanks to Alia Whipple for her time and patience working with me on this; she provided invaluable assistance on the science parts, which I simply could not do without her. Much of the time travel discussion is her exact words from suggestions that I worked into the dialog.

The Invasion  
Rated R  
By Suzanne L. Feld  
with Alia Whipple

Preface - May 1994  
It was a conversation had around the world hundreds, perhaps thousands, of times a day, every day of the year. The only thing different about each was the outcome:

“I don’t know how else to tell you this so I’m going to just blurt it out. I’m pregnant.”

“Shit… are you sure?”

“As I can be. About five weeks. I began with the morning sickness a few days ago and went right in to be tested.”

“I had, ah, assumed you were on the Pill since you didn’t mention protection.”

“I am—was. But I hadn’t had… relations… with anyone in well over a year before you so it’s possible I forgot to take them now and then. I want to make it clear that this is my fault, if we must assign blame, and I won’t hold you responsible if you don’t want to be.”

“Who’d have thought it, from just once?”

“We both know enough about biology to know exactly what happened.”

“I, ah, don’t want you to take this the wrong way.”

“Blurt it out like I did.”

“I want to marry you.”

“Wha—are you kidding me?!”

“This may seem sudden, or because of the pregnancy, but I haven’t been able to forget about our… night together. I’m in love with you, whether or not we want me to be.”

“Oh, God. Me too. I thought it was just me, or maybe the pregnancy hormones. Don’t you want some time to think it over? This is very sudden, I know. Are you sure?”

“That I love you and want to marry you? Yes. Absolutely.”

“One last time. It’s going to be a big change from your—our—lifestyle as it is now.”

“I don’t need the out. I’m sure. If you ask me again I’ll start thinking you’re not interested in marrying me.”

“Hmph. Might help if you actually asked me instead of just stating it.”

“Will you marry me? Make a life and a home with me, have and raise our children with me?”

“Oh, God, I promised myself I wouldn’t cry if this ever happened to me. Get up, yes, yes of course I will!”

“Now that’s more like it.”

December, 2012  
The house was quiet but bright with winter sunshine when Mulder let himself in. He’d hoped to catch William and Dana at home, but the Prius was gone and the house too still to have an energetic, inquisitive young man around. 

He found a note typed into the message screen on the fridge. “Went to do last-minute Christmas shopping, lunch in fridge if you want, call to meet us before noon if not. Love, D.”

He knew they’d likely gone to the new Central MegaStore in Georgetown and there was no way he was going anywhere near there during the crazy season no matter how much he’d liked to have lunch with his wife and son. Especially since said son would be going back to school in a few weeks; although he honored his choice of U of C Berkeley, Mulder couldn’t help but wish the boy had chosen a closer college so they’d see him more than two or three times a year. 

That had been on his mind a lot, he thought as he wandered through the house, touching things here and there. Though this was William’s sophomore year, he was still adjusting to the fact that his son had moved out, was an adult and on his own. This gouge in the archway between living and dining room was where William had knocked over and broken Scully’s favorite lamp at age ten, throwing a Frisbee for their dog Blockhead, now years dead. Though it had been painted over several times they’d never gotten around to filling that dent. It was just one of hundreds of memories of a young William running around the house, bright and active and curious since he could talk.

Mulder remembered the first time he’d held his son. Scully had gone into labor a week early while he’d been out on a field assignment shortly before his transfer to Quantico and though he’d rushed home, he’d missed the birth by a good six hours. He’d raced into Scully’s room at the hospital and skidded to a halt to see her half-sitting on the side of her hospital bed, dressed in her own pajamas and robe and with her hair and makeup done, holding a bundle of blue and white blankets. While he was standing there dumbfounded she’d walked up to him with a huge smile, deposited the blankets in his arms, and announced, “Dad, meet your son William.” Even now he grinned at the memory of how nervous, proud, awed, and delighted he’d been at the sight of the baby’s quiet, wide-eyed face and faint weight in his arms.

He wondered how different he would feel about William being gone if they’d had other children. When he was three years old they’d begun trying for another child, but Dana had never quickened again so a few years ago he’d had a vasectomy once they’d agreed that they were getting too old to deal with an infant. 

In the living room he stopped and gazed at the live Christmas tree, plain green and standing tall and thick above its large tub wrapped in burlap and surrounded by a heavy plastic tarp. Dana insisted on not decorating it until the night before Christmas even though William had figured out at age four that there was no such thing as Santa Claus. Still, it was a family tradition to decorate it on Xmas eve after midnight mass, which she also still insisted on attending. The decorated tree stayed up for nearly two weeks, another tradition he didn’t dare contest.

He turned and was about to head for the kitchen and the aforementioned lunch when a knock came from the front door and he changed course again. Though the large glass windows on either side, which had their curtains thrown wide, he saw that it was Edward McAlpin, their neighbor across the street. He was bundled in a heavy green parka and scarf, but no gloves or hat. “Ed, what can I do you for?” Mulder asked as he opened the door. “Come on in.”

“Thanks, but I only have a moment. Have you heard anything… unusual?” the balding, heavyset man asked hesitantly. “I know this may seem strange, but we’ve been hearing some rumblings at the ATF about strange activities from SETI and NASA but nothing concrete. You heard anything at the FBI?”

Mulder frowned. He had also heard some vague murmurings about something strange going on with the space programs but didn’t put much faith in them. “Yeah, I’ve heard some unusual rumors but I think it’s more because the election is next year,” he said thoughtfully. “But I guess it doesn’t hurt to keep your ear to the ground, does it?”

“Nope,” his neighbor agreed easily. “Well, you let me know if you hear anything concrete and I’ll do the same,” he said, rubbing his hands together and breathing out a plume of condensation. Though it hadn’t snowed yet this year, it was cold enough for it. “Gotta go pick up Marita from band practice; Monica’ll have my ass if I’m late again so I’d better get a move on. See you later.”

Closing the door, Mulder crossed and rubbed his arms and headed upstairs for a sweater. The house was kept at an even 68 degrees no matter how cold it got, and some days he missed the old indulgence of turning up the heat whenever they felt like it. Still, with global warming as bad as it had become something had had to be done, and regulating energy did seem to be working even if it was somewhat inconvenient at times.

He had finished his brief lunch and was heading into the study for an afternoon’s writing when he heard the back door open and turned around to intercept his wife and son as they came in. “Ah, there’s my wayward family,” he greeted them, taking two heavy cloth shopping bags from Dana and lifting them to the table. Even now he liked to impress her whenever he could; he was sure that between doing so and staying in good shape he got laid a lot more than most men his age. And he had no plans to change it. “Have fun fighting the crowds?”

“There weren’t many; I think just about everyone’s ordering online this year because the only lines we saw were in the pickup lanes,” Dana said, turning her face up for a kiss as she took off her coat. She was wearing a pair of tight jeans and a form-fitting sweater and he eyed her figure appreciatively as she went to hang it up; right there was the reason he still wanted to bed her frequently after almost twenty years of marriage. He wasn’t the only one who stayed in shape despite the fact that they both had more or less sedentary jobs these days.

“Holyshee, Dad, can you at least wait until I’m out of the room?” William said sotto voice as he went by with a pair of bags in his hands. “I know you’re not used to me being here, but damn!”

“What are you two mumbling about over there?” Scully said as she walked back into the room, heading for the bags. “You know I hate that.”

“Nothing, nothing,” Mulder hastened to assure her as he began to unpack them. “I thought you were going Christmas shopping—this is all groceries.”

“Yeah, well, with the Eating Machine in the house I had to get more food while we were out,” she said with an affectionate smile for their tall son, who leaned a hip against the counter and grinned right back. He was clearly a mixture of the two of them; he had Mulder’s height, nose, and lean physique, but her thick red hair, pale tending-to-freckles complexion—and Irish temper even if it didn’t show outwardly. “The presents are in the car and don’t you dare look.”

“Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll be out of your hair soon enough,” William said, reaching over and grabbing a bright yellow Granny Smith apple from the stack in an antique Fire King bowl on the counter. “I can stay until Christmas, but I’ve got to head back right after New Year’s.”

“You’re sure that won’t be a problem with your studies?” Mulder said, carrying an armload of soup cans to the pantry. “We’re glad to have you here, but isn’t—“

“I’m fine, Dad, no worries,” the tall young man said, twirling the apple in his long fingers before selecting a spot to take a bite from. “I can work from here if I need to, but we’re in a bit of a lull anyway.”

“There are lulls in studying astronomy?” Dana turned to look at William. “And I thought you were going to get time on one of the big radio telescopes soon?”

“In the spring,” he mumbled around a bite of apple. Mulder narrowed his eyes at him, but the younger man gazed back guilelessly with a half-smile, showing the faint dimple on the left side of his full-lipped mouth. Still, he knew his son well enough to realize that something was amiss here. He wondered if William had decided to change majors again; this was his third and really beginning to screw with his credit hours. “Look, I don’t see what the problem is. If you want me to go back to Berkeley after turkey day I can, but I’m not turning around and coming back for Christmas.”

“You had better not be hiding anything from us,” Dana scolded as she dumped several bags of salad mix into the crisper.

“I think you’d better quit while you’re ahead,” Mulder advised his son. “So you going to help us here, or just stand there and watch?”

William opened his mouth but a meaningful look from his mother made him snap it shut, tossing the apple core into the food recycling bin before pushing away from the counter and going to lift and carry.

***

“Something’s up with him, something’s not right,” Scully said, resting the back of her head against her husband’s chest. They were curled up on the floor at the base of the couch facing the flickering gas fireplace, sitting on and surrounded by a pile of big soft pillows. This was their favorite way to spend an evening, though even now with their single chick out of the nest they didn’t get to do it as often as they’d have liked. William had gone to spend the night at a friend’s house and with tomorrow being the weekend, they’d decided to indulge themselves.

Mulder turned to kiss the soft, thick hair over her ear. If he hadn’t known she was a natural redhead, he thought, the few strands of grey now coming in among the waves of auburn would have been a dead giveaway. “Um-hmn, I noticed it too; he’s keeping something from us,” he agreed. “Any ideas?”

“I think he might be considering changing his major again,” she said, taking a sip of her wine. “We’re going to have to sit him down and have a talk with him if that’s the case. First geosciences, then applied physics, now astronomy.”

“At least he’s moving in the right direction,” Mulder cracked, unsurprised to find that she shared his thought from earlier. “Upwards.”

“No, he’s going nowhere fast, and we’re wasting forty grand a year,” she snapped back. 

“Scully—ah, Dana—“

“Mul-der!” She turned to stare up at him. “Please tell me you’re not going to start calling me that again.”

“Sometimes I forget,” he grumbled, embarrassed. They had agreed when they got married that he would call her by her first name from then on, which he had more or less done, but the book he was working on had gotten him back into old ways. And he didn’t want to tell her about it because it was going to be a surprise. “I can’t help it; I still tend to think of you by that name.”

She shook her head, looking away, but he could see by the curve of her cheek that she was smiling. “We worked together for barely two years, Mulder.”

He hugged her back against him. “You were my Scully.”

“And I always will be.”

***

“Dad! Mom! Get up, get up now!”

At the sound of William’s panicked voice Mulder roused, rolling away from Scully in their huge bed. “Hang on, gimme a minute,” he yelled back, groping for his pajamas on the floor at the side of the bed. Neither of them had gotten up to put their nightclothes back on after they’d curled up naked together to go to sleep after a slightly drunken but incredible bout of lovemaking, and in the dimness of their room he saw Dana scrambling for her robe as well. 

Making sure she was covered, he yanked the bedroom door open to find their son standing outside on the landing, dressed in wrinkled jeans and tennis shoes without socks, his plaid wool shirt only half-buttoned. “It’s started, it’s begun, they’re here,” he babbled, grabbing his father’s arm and dragging him to the small window nearby at the top of the stairs. 

“What the…” Mulder began, then let the word trail off and stared, jaw hanging, out the window. Within moments Dana joined them and the three of them stood there, staring out the small window at the end of the world.

Small silver craft, clearly not of human manufacture, zipped here and there in the distance, shooting bolts of green lightning both at the ground and at the jets that buzzed around them. Towers of flame sprang up at random, and the floorboards shook under their feet as the sound of explosions reached their ears. Scattered traffic raced up and down the streets, cars smashing into each other while those able to keep moving were doing so. No one stopped to check on injured.

He looked down at Scully, their stricken eyes meeting. “December twenty-first, two thousand twelve,” he said through dry lips. “We thought it was a joke to turn us off the trail of the real truth.”

“It was real, not a fake,” she replied, beginning to shake so that he reached out and enfolded her in his arms. “The Erlenmeyer flask… Cancerman… E.B.Es… all true…”

“And we walked away,” he whispered, horrified. “We could have stopped this!”

“What are you two talking about?” William all but cried, stepping back and grabbing onto the railing as his foot slipped on the top of the stairs. “You know what’s happening?”

“No time right now—get downstairs,” Mulder said, squeezing Dana’s shoulder briefly before letting go of her. “We’re less than ten miles from D.C. and in immediate danger. I’ll call—“

“No communications,” William said as they began to hurry down the stairs. “Everything’s FUBAR, even shortwave.”

Pounding from downstairs stopped all of them in their tracks, staring fearfully at each other. “Oh, for Chrissake, it’s not the damn aliens knocking at our front door,” Mulder snapped, leading the way down. Dana and William followed closely, and he didn’t bother to try and get them to move away; he knew they wouldn’t. 

William peered carefully around the curtain over the window at the side of the door, then sighed with relief “It’s the uncles,” he said as his father opened the door. 

“Fucking Christ, about time!” Frohike snapped as the three Gunmen stumbled inside.

“I was thinking about heading for your office,” Mulder blurted, shocked to see them here. “I figured you had the safest—“

“We did until one of those alien muthas crashed into our building—we barely made it out,” Langley coughed. All three looked like they’d been through a fire and tornado at the same time, covered with soot and burns and their clothes torn. Byers, usually immaculate, appeared to have been through a human-sized shredder as his clothes above the waist were hanging off of him in strips and the skin beneath was black with dirt, soot, and burns.

Dana darted around her tall husband and son and reached for the bearded man, who was swaying on his feet, but he held up a hand. “You can look at us later, but we’ve got to get out of here,” he said, reaching out and steadying himself with the same hand on Frohike’s shoulder. “They started in downtown D.C. and are moving outwards; they’ll be here anytime.”

“Jesus,” William whispered, and everyone was quiet for a time. Then he added, “Guess I’d better go pack a bag.”

“Just take a change of clothes for now,” Frohike advised as the small group went deeper into the house. “We grabbed an SUV on the way over but—“

“Grabbed?” Dana said, whirling on him. “Stole, you mean?”

“Yeah, stole!” he snarled back which had everyone staring at him. He’d had a crush on Dana Scully-Mulder since they’d first met and no one had ever imagined him talking to her like this. “You need to get out there and see what’s going on before passing judgment…” he turned away, shoulders slumping as he moved out from beneath Byers’s hand, and leaned against an inside wall with his back to the windows.

Mulder glanced at Dana’s shocked face and jerked his chin towards the upstairs; their eyes met and no words were needed. He then went over to the shorter man, who had one arm braced against the wall with his forehead resting on it. “Frohike… what in the hell is going on out there?”

“They’re slaughtering everything, everyone in sight,” he said, low, turning to glance over at where William stood talking to Langley. Scully had run upstairs, clutching her robe around her. “I don’t know what weapons they have, but they’re kamikaze too. We saw the bastard that crashed into our building coming on our exterior cameras, he wasn’t damaged or didn’t slow or anything—he just slammed right into it.”

Just then the house shook from a nearby impact and all of them ran to the front windows. From just a few streets over a huge plume of black smoke roiled into the cloudy sky, shockingly dark against the lightness. “That was a kamikaze, betcha,” Langley said, turning away. Mulder followed suit as Scully came racing down the stairs carrying his gym bag, which was bulging. She was dressed in yesterday’s jeans and sweater and slip-on loafers with no socks, and handed him a pair of Levis and a black sweatshirt with a pair of grey sweat socks on top.

“I saw it go down—they’re getting closer so we’d better get a move on,” she said, going over the armoire in the dining room and pulling out two photo albums, shoving them into the duffle bag even though it was about to split at the seams. Mulder followed her, stepping around the archway out of sight of the others to dress in the heavier clothes, and found that he was going commando since she hadn’t brought him any underwear. “Where are we going?”

“I’ve got a place in the mountains—not far from Charlottesville, but remote enough that no one will figure out we’re there unless they know exactly where the place is,” Byers said. “We can decide what else to do once we’re safe there.”

“Oh, God, my mother!” Scully said in a shocked near-whisper. Mulder went to her; her face was white as a sheet. He put one arm around her, holding her steady even as his eyes went to the plume of smoke outside the window.

“Isn’t Grandma with Uncle Bill and Aunt Tara in California?” William said, pausing halfway up the stairs.

“Go! Go! Get your stuff, hurry!” Frohike waved at him and the young man continued up.

“Yeah, she is, but I doubt she’s any safer there than she would be here,” Scully said, turning her eyes up to her husband in mute appeal. 

“Nothing we can do now,” Mulder hated to point out, but did. “We’ll try to get hold of her once we’re safe. Frohike, will the car hold us all?”

“Yeah, it’s a Land Rover; it’ll hold us easy and more,” he said, looking up as another explosion shook the house. “We gotta move, folks.”

Mulder started to yell for William but he appeared at the top of the stairs, hurrying down them. But before he was halfway another explosion went off, this one very close, and blew out the windows at the back of the house, making them all duck although none of the glass reached that far. When he looked up his son was sprawled at the bottom of the stairs; Scully tore out from beneath his arm and ran to him. 

“I’m fine, Mom,” he said as she arrived at his side, getting to his feet with no help and grabbing the overnight bag he’d brought down, which had clothing hanging out of it. Another explosion, just as close, got them all moving towards the front door.

On the way out Mulder grabbed a pair of shoes from the mat behind the front door, glad for once that he’d ignored Dana’s nagging to put them in the hall closet.

Outside it was a scene from what he imagined Hell would look like if it existed. The flashes of fire were getting closer, the sky to the north was black with roiling smoke and, as they ran across the lawn to the large SUV that waited in the street, he watched one of the narrow silver craft dive unerringly at the ground only a few blocks away. The resulting explosion nearly knocked them off their feet, but they managed to continue across the lawn despite it. Screams rang out from somewhere nearby, but none of them stopped.

A bright red Mustang flew by, clipping a corner of the minivan parked across the street and setting off its alarm, but no one came out of the McAlpins’ house to turn it off. Mulder spared a thought for the neighbors, especially their seven-year-old daughter, but he knew he had to take care of his own family first. Cold, perhaps, but the bare, simple truth. His training as a field agent, now twenty years ingrained, urged him to go and help with every fiber of his being, yet he knew that could be fatal to the six of them. He exchanged an anguished glance with his wife who, as a doctor, probably felt stronger than he about it. But she didn’t say a word either.

The others piled into the Land Rover, leaving him for last and when he turned back to the vehicle he found that he faced the empty driver’s seat. Shrugging, he climbed in, adjusting the seat—Frohike must have been driving on the way there, he thought—and eyeing the controls, familiarizing himself with them.

“Go south on 95 or as close as you can,” Byers said from the back seat. “Just follow the signs to Charlottesville and I’ll direct you from there.”

“How long?” Mulder asked as they started off. “That’s quite a ways.”

“About two and a half, maybe three hours, more if we can’t take the freeway.”

They rounded a corner and found that the red Mustang, which had passed them earlier, was now wrapped around a telephone pole, nearly blocking the street. He’d have to knock it out of the way to get by, the first time of many he suspected. “Hang on.”

They smashed the Mustang up onto the sidewalk and as they whipped past he saw that there was an infant seat laying in the back, but averted his eyes when he realized that there was no way anyone could have survived the crash. He only hoped that Dana hadn’t seen it, but when he glanced over at her white face in the passenger seat knew that she, unfortunately, had. 

A moment later a disheveled older woman ran out in front of their car and he barely missed her, screeching to a stop out of sheer habit. “Stop! Stop!” she yelled, grabbing onto the passenger door, Dana staring out at her in shock. “Fox and Dana Mulder, I’m here to help you—please, please take me with you!”

To his surprise, Dana swung the door open and scooted over on the bench seat. “Then get in, dammit, hurry!” she snapped, and the moment the other woman was in the car, he jammed on the gas.

Despite his eidetic memory he was never quite able to fully recall that horrific ride, which took close to five hours. He didn’t want to remember the events he did recall, the ghastly things they saw, the close calls that they barely made it through, the deaths they witnessed that he would never be able to forget.

But, finally, they made it with all of them safe, sound, and in one piece, which was more than he could say for most of the people they saw on the journey.

***

Byers’ cabin turned out to be an old hunting lodge that must have originally belonged to a fairly large group or family. It had four bedrooms plus as a separate bunkhouse that could sleep six as well. Best of all, it was less than two hundred yards from the shores of a small lake which was a source of fresh water if needed. 

It was just after dusk by the time they arrived, and Mulder unfolded himself from behind the wheel with a groan. They had only stopped twice when they ‘d deemed it safe enough, once to fill up the gas hog and grab supplies at a recently-abandoned station just outside Springfield, which came under attack while they were there and they’d barely made it out of. Then again less than an hour ago when Langley swore he couldn’t hold it anymore and all of them had tromped into a tiny diner in a small, remote town that wasn’t under attack yet and which they never did get the name of. He wasn’t sure if the people they’d talked to had believed them since all communications were down, but at least they’d passed the warning along.

Thank God they’d had a powerful four-wheel-drive with a winch; Mulder knew that if they’d been in a lesser vehicle they might not have made it. The only good thing was that they’d been able to get on 95 just past Quantico, and the journey had been fairly smooth if slow from there on out.

They dragged themselves inside the building, barely looking around or at each other. He kept an eye on the woman they’d picked up, who had introduced herself as Dr. Lana Ashbury, wary and ready to take her down if she made one wrong move. But she seemed as shell-shocked as the rest of them. “There’s no electricity, but plenty of candles and lanterns,” Byers said as Mulder and Dana scanned the interior with flashlights they’d found in the Rover’s emergency kit. “There is propane gas for cooking and heat, and running water from the pumps in the kitchen and bathroom.”

“How about a radio?” William said, flopping on a dusty couch covered with a green-and-blue plaid blanket. It was cool, but not cold, inside, probably due to the fact that it was down in a hollow and protected from the worst of the winter winds.

“I don’t know, but the car radio wasn’t working so I doubt anything else would,” Byers said dispiritedly, heading slowly up the stairs. The others spread out looking for the aforementioned candles and lanterns, and when Frohike found a box of barbeque matches in the kitchen he carried them around so everyone could light whatever they found. Then they took turns in the bathroom, which Scully was vastly relieved to see was fairly modern even if there was only one. The water was from a hand-cranked pump but worked well enough if slightly rusty in color.

Mulder and William built a good-sized fire in the large fieldstone fireplace in the living room, having found a large shed full of neatly-cut wood only a dozen steps from the back door.

Within half an hour the cabin’s main room was warm and filled with a comfortable glow; dimmer flickering lights shone in the kitchen and upstairs as well as everyone investigated and picked rooms. Each bedroom had two single beds, and without a word Mulder pushed the ones in his and Dana’s room together. William and Frohike had agreed to share a room so Dr. Asbury could have one to herself.

When they returned downstairs they found the other five in the main room, sprawled on the couches and loveseats drawn into a circle around a coffee table made of deer antlers and logs. The three Gunmen still wore the torn, ragged pants they’d escaped from their building in, but brand-new t-shirts that had been picked up at the gas station outside Springfield. Byers had managed to find a plain black one, but Langley’s showed a mosquito with the words “Virginia State Bird” above. Frohike’s, which was an XXL and hung halfway to his knees, was white with the words “Wrong Springfield!” and a picture of Bart Simpson mooning the viewer.

“Jesus, aren’t we a motley crew,” Mulder muttered as he pulled out the bench from the dining table, which was directly behind the couch area with no divider. The other four men had all the couch and loveseat space while Dr. Asbury was in the lone recliner and, in addition, he was afraid that if he sat down on something soft he’d pass out from both emotional and physical exhaustion.

“But we’re alive and mostly undamaged,” Dana remarked as she sat down next to him, leaning against his shoulder. “Better than most of those other poor bastards we passed.”

“I wish I’d know that there was all this room; we might have been able to bring more people,” William remarked. Mulder knew that he was remembering the dozens on the side of the road running from Washington, who had tried to stop them for a ride. But they hadn’t dared to so much as pause; fleeing was their only chance of surviving.

“There’s only so much food, kid,” Frohike said tiredly. “I looked in the pantry and for the seven of us it’ll only last a few days, so we need to start thinking of how to get more soon.”

Mulder turned to their guest, who sat slumped in the chair with her hands between her knees, head hanging. “Dr. Asbury, care to explain your part in this?”

She looked up, dark circles ringing her pink-rimmed eyes behind a pair of metal-rimmed glasses, short grey hair disheveled and, on one side, singed black. “I am one of the people responsible for this attack; not because I wanted it to happen, but because I was tricked into it,” she said with a very slight accent. Slavic or Russian, he guessed. “I thought I was doing good by—“

“You’ve got to be shitting us,” Frohike snarled, leaning forward. “You think we’ll—“

“Hey—let me do this,” Mulder snapped, glaring over at the smaller man. “It’s my family that’s in danger.”

“Your family?” Byers said dryly with raised brows. “Last time I looked it was more than your family, Mulder. It appears to be the whole world.”

“Stop it!” Dana snapped, glaring at her husband then over at the men on the couch. “Fighting among ourselves is a great way to start out.”

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble, I really want to help,” the older woman said. “But if you don’t believe me, there’s nothing I can do.”

“For now, I think we should get some sleep and talk more in the morning,” Dana remarked tiredly. “I don’t see what else we can do tonight unless anyone has injuries that I should look at.”

A phone rang suddenly into the silence of the room, startling each of them into visibly jumping and/or flinching. Mulder fumbled in his jeans pocket and drew out his iAll, pressing the button that unfolded it into cell a instead of a vidphone or ‘pad. The implanted receiver activated as the little machine opened, announcing itself with a low buzz felt more in the bones of the ear than by sound. He set it on the table and said rather cautiously, “Mulder.”

“Mister Mulder!” Though he hadn’t heard that gravelly voice, now crowing with amusement, in nearly twenty years, Fox Mulder recognized it immediately and the hackles on the back of his neck rose. 

“You black-lunged bastard, you’re like a cockroach, of course you’d survive,” he snapped, reaching out and pushing another button on side of the iAll so it unfolded into a 4” vidphone and turned on external sound so everyone could see him. 

None of them noticed Dr. Asbury ducking behind the recliner, shaking, her face snow-white with shock.

“Son of a bitch!” Dana exclaimed, recognizing him as well. “Cancer Man!”

“Who—“ William began.

Mulder waved his hand in a sharp chopping motion, effectively shushing the group as they crowded around the screen.

“This must be your handsome son,” Cancer Man, now wrinkled and with long white hair that made him look like a deranged ghost, beamed at them through the small but crystal-clear screen. “My, my, what a handsome boy. You must be thrilled that I worked it out so that he would exist.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?” Dana snapped, leaning over Mulder’s shoulder. 

“Ah, Dana Scully, er, Mulder. You are as lovely as ever, my dear. Quite the nice life you and Fox and William have built for yourself… well, should I say it was.” He smirked openly. “By now, I’m sure your house has been reduced to rubble and all traces of that life are completely obliterated.”

She glared back at the old man. “Nice, you cheap-shot bastard. Why, and how, did you call us? Isn’t all comm down?”

“Not for me, my dear. Not for me. Thanks to you and your, ah, husband’s lack of self-control, I am the new human ruler of this planet. The invading forces are under my control, and answer to me as do the rest of you.”

A loud babble broke out from the group, everyone talking over each other before the man on the screen had stopped speaking. Cancer Man beamed out at them, looking as pleased as the proud father of a newborn son. 

“SHUT UP!” Mulder bellowed, glaring around him except at Dana, which he knew better than to do. 

“My, my, dissention in the ranks, Mr. Mulder?” the voice was gentle and amused, but with a hard current of smug satisfaction running beneath. “If you want your little band of survivors to live to tell the tale of this invasion, you must lead better than that.”

“What in the fuck are you talking about?” he snapped, losing patience. “I’m about to hang up on you, old man.”

“Oh, you don’t want to do that,” Cancer Man advised with a smirk clear in his voice. “It was a simple matter to triangulate your location from the phone and get a lock on that remote cabin you’re ensconced in with your false sense of safety. I could have a craft there in minutes to blow you all to Kingdom Come—but you’ve been one of my most successful experiments and I hate to have it end in such an abrupt manner.”

Gritting his teeth, Mulder glanced sideways at Dana. She was glaring fiercely at the screen, nostrils flaring as she breathed in and out of her nose. He had never seen her so furious before, not even the time shortly after they’d been married when he’d spent their savings on a new computer without telling her. “I suppose you’re going to tell us the hows and whys of this great experiment,” he said, returning his gaze to the wrinkled, white-haired man on the screen. “The villain always monologues.”

“But this time there’s no saving the world,” their ancient enemy said almost benignly, but with that cutting undertone to his rough voice. “So I decided to indulge myself and gloat just a bit.” His gaze turned to Dana, still leaning over her husband’s shoulder. “You, my dear, were the absolute perfect bait for him. We knew Fox was getting far too close to exposing us, and while you both thought that she was there to report on you, your true assignment was far more insidious. It worked even better than we had hoped; you both took the bait hook, line and sinker!” He tilted his head to the right, in William’s direction, and smiled a toothy, insolent grin at them.

Mulder and Dana glanced at each other, immediately understanding what he was saying. ‘They’ had put a beautiful young woman in a remote basement office with a handsome, virile man, and let nature take its course. Which, of course, it had less than a year than they’d started working together; they’d been married and William born before they’d known each other a full two years. Dana had decided to quit the Bureau and go into private practice as a pediatrician and although Mulder had stayed with the Bureau, the X-Files had been shut down and he’d ended up teaching in the Behavioral Sciences division at Quantico rather than being a field agent. They had both agreed to remove themselves from danger for their child’s sake well before he was born.

“I wouldn’t change a moment of it,” Mulder said, and in his peripheral vision saw Dana nodding her head. 

“Ha ha ha, Mr. Mulder, neither would I,” their enemy gloated. “I’ve been to an alternate timeline and in that life, you did stop me. That’s when I decided that it wasn’t acceptable and figured out how to start over and try again, this time knowing how to stop you. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist Dana Scully if I threw her at you when you were both younger—and was I right.”

“So you’re saying that you went back in time and changed history?” Frohike piped in, ignoring Dana’s pointed look.

“More or less, and in the other timeline you and your cohorts died a horrible death that was quite amusing to watch,” Cancer Man said with deceptive pleasantry. “I’m not pleased that we missed you this time around, but you’re of no consequence now. None of you are, not even the vaunted Agent Fox Mulder, FBI boy wonder and profiler extraordinaire. There’s absolutely nothing you can do; anything you try I will find out about and have you all obliterated.”

“So you called just to gloat?” Dana said, her fingers tightening on Mulder’s shoulder almost painfully. He covered her hand with his and hers turned over, lacing their fingers together.

“That’s correct, my dear. And to let you know that I am watching you, watching every move you make. I see the slightest threat and you all die, as I will tolerate no interference in my plans for the new Planet Earth.” He smiled benignly at them, again like a doting father. “You’re welcome to survive out there, eke out a living as best you can. But come back to civilization any closer than the nearest Podunk town and it will be the last mistake you make. Farewell, my children.” And with a last chilling laugh, the tiny screen faded to black.

***

The next morning Mulder rose before the others, reluctantly leaving his sleeping wife’s warm side in the predawn darkness. He’d been awake well over an hour thinking, and it was only his need for the bathroom that drove him from her arms. Once up, he was cold and awake and headed to the living room to stir the fire and see if there was anything at all approximating coffee, or even tea, to warm his guts.

He found an ancient, rusty, half-full can of Hills Brothers in the pantry but quickly realized that he had no idea how to brew it without a coffeepot. Instead he made do with a glass of tepid tap water, bundled up, and went to sit on the back deck steps; until the fire warmed the interior it was nearly as cold inside as outside.

The lake was shrouded in mist, the slowly brightening light just enough to show the pale fog and outlines of the surrounding mountains against the sky. He set the half-empty glass on the porch step next to him and put elbows on knees, resting his face in both palms and idly watching his breath plume out. It wasn’t below freezing, but close. 

He, Dana, and Dr. Asbury had stayed up talking late into the night although they hadn’t decided much of anything. The older woman had convinced them beyond the shadow of a doubt of who she was, though not what they could do just yet. She had so thoroughly explained the science behind and described her work for Cancer Man—whose real name was CGB Spender, it turned out—developing the time travel equipment that there was no doubt that she’d designed it as well as why she was on their side now. Spender had originally recruited her for the time travel project and she had developed the equipment believing they were going to go back in time to correct or remove horrors like Hitler and the creation of the atomic bomb, but then smashed it when she realized it had been used to ensure the success of the alien invasion overseen by Spender. She had destroyed most of the equipment and now wasn’t sure if the infrastructure even existed to rebuild it… but she wanted to help them try.

After they were done talking, to his surprise, Dana had all but dragged him back to their room and made love to him skillfully, almost desperately, driving them both to near exhaustion so that they could doze off tangled together.

The screen door closed quietly behind him and he knew who it was instantly, not surprised that she couldn’t sleep either. “Anyone else up?” he asked without turning.

A scratchy but thick and warm blanket dropped over his shoulders, then his wife seated herself next to him and curled up beneath it with him. “No, they’re still all out like lights,” she said, holding the blanket up as he put his arm around her and she snuggled against him, sharing her warmth. “The fire you started should have the living room warm in a few minutes.”  
“I like it out here,” he told her as the lonely call of a loon floated out over the misty water. “The cold keeps my mind clear.”

“I can think just fine in a warm house,” she said drily, and Mulder turned his head to nuzzle her tousled hair with a snort of amusement. “But you’re right, it is peaceful out here.”

“The one thing I can’t stop thinking about is how Cancer Man said he went back in time to see a life where we beat him,” Mulder said. “If he really did it, perhaps Dr. Asbury is right and we can do it as well and stop him—again.”

“He also said something about an alternate timeline; wouldn’t that be different from going back in time?” Dana said. 

“I’ve been thinking about that too. I think he used that to throw us off the track; I believe he really time-traveled, not going between realities or dimensions or timelines or whatever. For him to make a point of saying that, he must be afraid that we can follow his example and turn things around yet again. If Dr. Asbury can help us go back, Scully, we have to remove or destroy it completely after we use it so he can’t turn around and do it again or we’ll end up in a vicious cycle and who knows what that could fuck up in the long run.”

Neither of them noticed the name he used for her.

“What if it is a different timeline and not actual time travel back and forward?” she pointed out. “There’s more theoretical evidence for alternate time lines or dimensions existing parallel to ours than for time travel within one time line. In qualitative physics, anyway.”

“But if that were the case he wouldn’t be able to alter the events in the other timeline, so why even mention it?” 

“But he could use the events from the other timeline to see how to alter this one,” Scully argued.

“That’s what he’s trying to make us think is going on; that we can’t cross over between timelines, or realities if you prefer. In the many worlds theory there are two or more parallel lines, each containing the same events up until the time you were assigned to work with me. In one timeline, you don’t get pregnant and we stop Cancer Man, but in the other—this one—we do get together and he wins. That’s where the timelines would diverge. I’m not buying into that theory; I think it’s a case of true time travel, where it’s a single line and we can go back and change our futures. Otherwise I don’t see why he’d even mention anything about it.”

They were both silent for a time, thinking. 

“And I don’t think he can track us that well; if he could, why warn us?” Mulder pointed out. “From what Dr. Asbury said last night, she destroyed as much of the comm and tracking devices as she could so we should be able to get back in there.”

Danas shook her head. “Mulder, it’s been so long since I studied physics as an undergrad I just don’t know if any of this is possible. I’m wondering how on Earth we’re going to manage something so complex when the infrastructure is completely collapsed and we can’t even make coffee. It’s not like we can just trot down to the library and check out a ‘how to time travel in 8 easy steps’ book.”

“We have Dr. Asbury; she was the main designer of the time portal and even though she destroyed it, she says she can recreate it with enough time and equipment. I think that’s what will make all the difference in the world.”

“That’s true. I guess it’s all that there’s left to do, anyway. How much worse can things be if we fail?”

“For now let’s rustle up some breakfast, wake the others, and plot our rebellion,” Mulder said, feeling relieved now that they had a course of action. “I don’t believe that bastard can know everything we do.” He looked down at his wife’s upturned face, seeing the same hope in her eyes that he felt, and couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss her. 

She truly was everything to him; he wouldn’t change a thing about the past years, not even the fights and sometimes feeling like she was trying to run his life. He already suspected that to change the past they’d have to give this up; if she had been his bait then that had to be changed. But as long as he could remember the years they’d spent together he’d be content. He reached over and cupped her soft cool face, deepening the kiss, feeling her response as she pressed closer to him.

“Damn, don’t you two ever stop?” their son’s voice came from behind them.

“Never, William, never,” Scully breathed, gazing up into her husband’s eyes with undisguised adoration. “Not in this life.”

Afterward - September, 1993  
Mulder and Scully materialized in the darkened basement office facing each other. “We’ve done it, we’re back,” he said with wonder, gazing around. Only the desk lamp was on, barely illuminating the dank space. “It’s just as it was thirty years ago when we met down here.”

His wife gazed around, then went over to a pane of glass in the partial wall that separated the two parts of the office and gazed at herself. “I’m twenty-six again,” she said with open wonder, fingering the thick, rich auburn hair that now fell past her shoulders. It had taken them nearly ten years to recreate the time portal, hence her amazement since five minutes before she’d been nearly sixty years old. “I’m back to exactly the way I was when we met—and so are you.”

He walked over to join her and they stood looking in the glass at their faint reflections. “I can’t believe it worked—I thought we’d come through the portal naked and screaming like in The Terminator,” he remarked, tracing the firm line of his jaw with one finger. “Not as if we’d never left this time and place, in the same clothes and in the exact same shape.”

“Remember what Dr. Asbury said,” she reminded. “Within a few days we’ll have forgotten our other life, and we’ve got to make sure that we both drive it into our heads not to get together. We need to wait at least seven years before we get romantically involved or we’ll screw up the timeline again, and let Cancer Man win. And since the portal was destroyed behind us, this is our only chance.”

They looked at each other, older minds in younger bodies. “On second thought, I’m glad we’re going to forget,” Mulder said hesitantly. “I couldn’t go on knowing what we had and not being able to hold you again.”

Though they had agreed to not touch each other once they’d arrived, Scully couldn’t help but take his hand and lace her fingers through his. They’d already said their goodbyes before going through the time portal and made their peace with the sacrifices they’d chosen to make. “We will be together someday, Mulder. But not until after we’ve taken care of that black-lunged bastard and his insane plans.”

“I miss William already,” Mulder said they squeezed each other’s hand lightly, then let go. He could have sworn he heard his heart breaking in his chest as he gazed down at her face. How could he love someone so much and let her go? Knowingly forget the wonderful life they’d had together? Only for the truth and the greater good, he knew. For nothing less.

“Me too, but somehow I know we’ll see him again; he’s meant to exist,” Scully said, moving towards the doorway. “It’s almost time for my meeting with Blevins, and you’d better get the slides out.”

“I love you, Scully.”

“I love you too, Mulder. No matter what happens from here on out. Forever.”

Epilogue - May, 2001  
When the kiss ended, they were both breathing heavily despite the baby between them. They gazed at each other for a moment, neither hiding the emotions in their eyes anymore, then Mulder spoke. 

“Scully… I have the strangest sense of déjà vu…”

 

finis


End file.
